[center][h2][b][color=silver]Lhirinthyl[/color] [color=Black]&[/color] [color=#d31c0a]Deo’Irah[/color][/b][/h2][sub]A Collab Between [@Tuujaimaa] & [@yoshua171][/sub][/center][hr]
The first thing that Lhirin noted was that it was an absolute disaster of evidence. Blood here, trampled grass there, a battered-in door. Still, despite all that, it didn’t take Lhirin terribly long to absorb it all, nor did it take more than an errant thought for him to dismiss his spell. Rising from a crouch, Lhirin took it all in for perhaps thirty seconds, before following the trail of blood visually back to the crossroads. Turning he noted the direction of the other trail. Part of him wanted to follow it further, but he decided it would be unwise.

Turning his gaze to the weapon he observed its likely nature, then headed towards the building’s interior where he’d seen Irah go. He ran a hand over the splintered wood of the door and frowned. Wasted craftsmanship, a shame. Calling out, Lhirin attempted to get his companion’s attention.

[color=silver][b]“Come out,”[/b][/color] he said, projecting his voice through the house even as he walked back over to the road, looking closer at the blood trail. As he waited he considered past encounters he’d had on his travels, trying to remember why this felt so…familiar.

As Lhirin took his time to ponder and scrutinise and consider in that way he was so proficient in, Irah began to speak under her breath–quiet, confident, and quick. Words very familiar to her indeed, for they were the means to call out to an angel across the divide, and invite them into Reniam–accompanied by a few gestures that, combined with her somber expression and downturned head, would likely give the townsfolk who might be able to observe her the impression of an exotic prayer and little else. In her mind the word formed as naturally as breathing, and as she exhaled she spoke it aloud: [i]”Kinder…”[/i]. It seemed it was time to play the part of the dutiful priestess, for lives were potentially at stake–and it mattered not to her whether the source of Reina’s mercy was hers directly or filtered through one of her angelic host: what mattered to her is that Her mercy was brought into this world and the suffering of the innocent ameliorated. The sensation of the spirit joining hers was at once familiar and surreal, but she paid the sensations no mind as she turned to exit, stepping past Lhirin briskly just as he asked her to join him once more.

With a warmth like sinking into bath-water that was just at the verge of transitioning from comfortable to uncomfortable, somehow both pleasant and painful at the same time, the divine creature dubbed Kinder by its summoner settled into Irah’s form, its spirit immediately and easily assuming a passive and cooperative role as soon as it recognized what was happening.

[I]“Deo’irah? How can I be of assistance?”[/I] it asked quickly, its voice pleasant, melodic and faintly feminine inside her skull. The angel was quite used to being called for medical emergencies and knew that there was likely little time for pleasantries if its services were required.

Rather than attempt to lower herself to crude verbiage, Irah simply shared directly with Kinder her memories of the past few moments, and let them feel the burgeoning urgency that swelled within her chest. Once she’d shared all of the information they’d been able to glean, her thoughts began to form words in her head as she began to act, and Irah did not stop for a moment as she rushed herself towards their belongings. Armos regarded her idly as she brushed past his white fur, clambering into the stagecoach in order to find the nested wooden boxes she used as an icebox. Irah extended her will out, carried by the magical energy she let seep from her very being, and as it extended towards the boxes the ice that’d been slightly melted by the unseasonal warmth began to freeze once more. She reached in to grab the two small vials of pulpy liquid–the aforementioned leftover healing potions–that may well save the lives of those injured in whatever happened here. By the time she’d managed to climb back out of the wagon, she was face-to-face with Lhirin again, and she motioned for him to lead the way. 

[color=#d31c0a][b]“Do you know where they took the wounded?”[/b][/color] she asked, displaying the two vials to him clearly in her right palm. She and Kinder both knew the perils of the divine taint, and they’d need a safer means for injuries that weren’t immediately critical.

Lhirin watched her, sensing a change about her person, one that always made his inquisitive mind curious. Still, now was not the time. [color=silver][b]“I have a hypothesis,”[/b][/color] he said with a nod, expression serious as he led Irah forth. The ox could stay where he was for now, the big animal and the wards on the stagecoach would keep their things safe. Besides, now that he had an understanding of the situation–or at least he thought he did–Lhirin had made a measure of sense out of the behavior of the villagers. No greetings, the one man swearing, then immediately capitulating at the first sign of hostility? This village had suffered some kind of an attack. Recent, but not so much so that the entire village was awash with panic–not that such a thing would do them any good. He thought it sensible that they were going about their business rather than dwelling in the past.

[color=silver][b]“Blood trail leads back towards the crossroad,”[/b][/color] Lhirin clarified after a brief few moments of silence as he continued on. His hand remained on the hilt of his runeblade, even though he was fairly certain that the immediate threat had passed. [color=silver][b]“There was an attack…perhaps a kidnapping,”[/b][/color] he mused aloud, [color=silver][b]“...one is certain, the other I am not so sure of. Though it is either that or the assailants left wounded.”[/b][/color] Lhirin’s eyes narrowed for a moment in thought before widening again as he peered about.

He was looking for any other possible evidence of an attack while they made their way to the crossroads.

Irah’s mind wandered to why he might have suggested a kidnapping, but as he elucidated the thought she found herself readily able to follow it with what they’d seen. Entry had clearly been forced, nobody was present, and there was a trail leading into the forest. It wasn’t one of the wounded dragged towards the crossroads, so reason stood it must either be the healer or their wounded… but why, in that case, was the place as tidy as it was? Perhaps they’d gotten into a skirmish, gotten enough soldiers wounded enough, and taken the healer by force to help recover their losses and hinder their enemy’s plans. A foolish proposition, to Irah’s mind, as it was quite easy to debilitate an individual subtly under the guise of healing–and any trained in healing knew that it was a precarious and fickle mistress, and even idle negligence could be deadly. Still, it was unlike most people to think too much about the consequences of their actions, and the desperate even less so. It seemed to her that everyone in Rodoria was a great deal more desperate than the last time that she’d visited, though that was some time ago now given the troubles that seemed to be engulfing the country.

[color=#d31c0a][b]“I’m inclined to agree with you on the kidnapping–you’re usually right about these things, if occasionally misdirected.”[/b][/color] she began, quickly pointing to the Fadewatcher outpost just ahead of themselves where it appeared others were now congregating: several animals appeared to be stationed outside, loaded with gear. Other adventurers heeding the call? Perhaps not–it was a Fadewatcher station, and though the young human guarding it lacked their customary tabard Irah had spent more than enough time passing through Rodoria to recognise a Fadewatcher’s outfit when she saw one. She turned to Lhirin and muttered quickly in Gazzerashei: [color=#d31c0a]“[i]Fadewatcher, but no tabard. Two loaded horses. Curious.[/i]”[/color] as they continued to bound closer toward the station.

Merely nodding in reply, Lhirin followed her lead as they approached the man guarding the door to the outpost. Sensing no imminent danger, Lhirin gave Irah a pointed glance, one that she’d seen before. It simply indicated that it was her turn to handle matters. After all, she was the social genius, between them... and his input was likely to be... poorly received.

Irah’s approach to the door was halted by by the little gathering that she could see occurring, with the perhaps off-duty Fadewatcher talking to a number of children about… the healer, it appeared. Well. If even the kids knew their healer was missing, perhaps it’d been longer than she thought–but she had very little time to consider the implications and instead saw fit to approach the group, clearly displaying the two little vials in her hand.

[color=#d31c0a]“You, Fadewatcher–forgive my brusqueness but there isn’t time to dally. The injured appear to have been brought inside, yes? Are we in time?”[/color] Irah directed towards Jordan, craning her neck to try and look him in the eyes. Her body language was quite clear–[i]let me in, before it’s too late[/i]–but she nevertheless recognised that she would be unable to physically extricate him from the entrance without the situation escalating into something neither of them would want and so awaited his response somewhat impatiently.